You Belong With Me
by Chokokyoko
Summary: England is always friendly with Japan, which is exactly what's got America feeling down... if America has what he wants, he might ruin his friendship with Japan. But if he leaves things as they are, England can never be his... right? America/England


**Okay... so this is my first ever fic. It was inspired by a writing meme that called for listening to the song "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift and then writing a story for a love triangle with three characters... America, England, and Japan.**

**Enjoy!**

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**USUK – You Belong With Me**

America sighed dejectedly. What was this, the ten billionth time he'd seen England smile at Japan? Yeah, something like that.

"Ugh… what the hell…" America groaned. He was sitting on a bench under a tree in the park, his eyes trained on England, who was talking excitedly to Japan. _Why does he look so damn happy all the time? I mean, when he's with Japan? It's not fair…he's never looked at_ me _like that… _

America tried to be friendly around England, he really did! But somehow, one way or another, they'd always end up fighting about something stupid. And of course, that didn't make their relationship any better, much to America's dismay.

_I mean, I know him better than anyone else! I _am_ his former colony after all…and me becoming independent might have gotten him pissed off, but that doesn't mean I don't like him! Still Japan's my best friend… there's no way I can hate him for this…_ America put his head in his hands, dragging his fingers through his caramel colored hair. He looked up through his long bangs at the two nations.

This wasn't just unfair… it was aggravating.

If he could somehow—by some miracle—get England to agree to be with him, he might ruin his friendship with Japan.  
But he couldn't just sit here and watch his best friend hook up with the one person he wanted to be his and his alone.  
England glanced over at America, who had been unknowingly staring at him. England cocked his head to the side, a curious frown forming on his lips.  
America blushed, averting his gaze. _I was staring at him? Seriously? Do you realize how creepy that is, me? Do you? Crap, he's coming over here… Now he's gonna tease me about how "eating too much and getting fat causes people to zone out, didn't you know that, America?" Ugh, here it comes… _

"America? Are you feeling all right? Your face is all red…"

"…'s nothin'…" the younger nation mumbled. It wasn't what he'd expected England to say, but he still felt embarrassed.

"Are you sure? You might have a fever or something…" England put his hand on America's forehead, a concerned look in his eyes.

"I-I said I'm fine!" America pulled back from England's touch, trying to fight the blush that was now reaching the tips of his ears.

"No need to be so touchy! I was only—"

"_You're _the one that's being all 'touchy!' You're not my brother or whatever anymore so stop treating me like such a kid!"

That hit a nerve.

"Well I can't help it if you're acting like one! There's nothing wrong with being concerned about the well-being of someone." England retorted, flinching a bit at his former colony's words.

"Well, why don't you go worry about Japan? He's the only one you even care about anyway!" America spat bitterly.

"What? That's ridiculous! Do you really think I don't care about you?"

"Well, _duh._ All we ever do is argue!"

"That doesn't prove a bloody thing!"

"Then what does it prove?"

"How the hell should I know?"

The two nations looked at each other, both letting out sighs of frustration. America bit his lip. He had just been moping about how he and England never got along and here had gone and gotten into another fight with him. Maybe he should just give up. Every conversation between the two was counterproductive, doing nothing to make things better between them. And England really hadn't done anything wrong…

_I guess I should apologize… _America didn't want to make their relationship any worse than it already was.

"Sorry…" America blinked. Was there an echo in his head or something? Or did England really just...?

"I'm sorry, America. I guess I just… I don't ever show you that… that you're important. T-to me, I mean. I might spend a lot of time with Japan, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you…" England said, avoiding looking in America's eyes.

"N-no!" America bolted up, off of the bench. "England! It's me! It was my fault! I was just feeling kinda down and I took it out on you… the brother-thing was a pretty low blow and I'm sorry for all that… still…" A genuine smile appeared on America's face. "It's nice to know you like me…"

"L-like you? O-oh, of course! But as a friend, nothing more!" England blushed, suddenly having great interest in the ground by his feet. America looked up at him curiously, then smiled.

"England?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like me?"

"S-sure."

"England, look at me."

Hesitantly, the Brit looked up, redder than one of Spain's tomatoes. His emerald eyes drifted towards the younger nation's sapphire. When their eyes finally met, a goofy grin spread across America's face.

"You _do_! You like me!"

"I-I just said that, didn't I? What are you getting so excited about?"

America just laughed.

"S-seriously! What's so bloody funny?" England asked, confused. America looked up, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"I'm just… I'm really, really happy."

"…because…?"

"England," America said, placing a hand on England's shoulder, suddenly looking very serious. England flinched at this sudden change in disposition, his heart rate speeding up with each passing moment. He swallowed hard, waiting for the younger nation to continue.

"Just how long have we known each other?" America asked, still retaining that serious demeanor.

"Erm…" England looked up, thinking for a moment before replying, "Well, the first English settlement in America was at Jamestown in 1607 so…" he proceeded to count on his fingers. "A little over four hundred years… technically. Why?"

"Because… for those _four hundred and five _years, I've known you as a brother, as a stranger, as an ally, as a friend… and when I became independent, I thought I'd lost you… I thought you'd never even speak to me again…" America trailed off.

A guilty feeling for distancing himself from his former colony started to come over England, but was cleared as America continued.

"…but you did. We started to get better, you and me. And maybe you didn't think it was a big deal, but I did. I never wanted to hurt you or anything… and honestly, just hearing you say that you don't hate my guts…" a smile grew on his face again, "that just makes me really, really happy."

"America…" England didn't know what else to say. He certainly hadn't expected anything like that to come out of America's mouth, and suddenly felt that he was obligated to say something just as caring back. But what? England racked his brain for something—anything—that he could say. Anything to show America that he didn't just not hate his guts, he—

"England?" America gazed down, expectantly at his former caretaker. Those pleading eyes pierced England's heart and then he knew exactly what he wanted to say. Taking a deep breath, England started.

"WHY THE BLOODY HELL COULDN'T YOU HAVE SAID THAT SOONER?"

America blinked. "W-what?"

"Why couldn't you have said that any sooner, you git?"

"Um…" America hadn't expected a response like this at all. "Because… you didn't say you liked me any… sooner…?" America said carefully.

"But it's not like I hadn't shown you!" England retorted.

"What do you mean?" America asked, becoming quite confused about where this conversation was going.

"Are you seriously that _daft_ that you couldn't tell?"

"Couldn't tell what?"

"You entirely oblivious American! That I never stopped loving you, even when—"

America stood there dumbstruck. England clapped a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously, his eyes wide with shock of his own words.

_What the hell. What the actual hell. I just said I_ loved _him! I can't believe I let that slip out! That git's going to… to laugh or… or something! Aah, now he's walking closer! I've got to say something! Um! _

"A-as a brother, of course!" England blurted. America halted in his tracks, a little surprised at the Brit's sudden outburst. England continued, "I-it's not like I love you or anything… not like that! I just… I mean… you—"

England found himself wrapped up in America's warm embrace. The distinct smell of hamburgers and some other scent he just couldn't place filled England's nose. The hamburger grease he always claimed to detest somehow blended perfectly with the other smell, creating a pleasant aroma that teased every one of England's senses. He could die happy, just breathing in this scent and being held in those strong arms. It was familiar, and yet so foreign to him. How could he have never been held by him before?

"England… me too." England's thoughts were caught off by the younger nation's whisper. _"Me too?" "Me too"_ what?_ Crap, what were we just talking about?_ Even if he weren't occupied by his thoughts, England couldn't speak, not with that intoxicating feeling of… of _America_. Being held by him, his whispers in his ear, the shiver going down England's back with the vibration of America's words…

America pulled back from the hug, England biting his lip to keep himself from voicing his need to stay in those arms just a bit longer. The ocean colored eyes softened, melting into the sky that was now filled with reds and yellows, the sun beginning its descent into the horizon.

"Me… too." America repeated. "I love you too."

England didn't understand. How was it, exactly, that America—America who could never in his life read the bloody atmosphere—knew exactly what England had really meant? How could he know that yes, England did love that bloody git as more, _so much more_, than a brother and had wanted this for the longest time? And how… how could this beautiful man of a star-spangled country bring himself to reciprocate those feelings?

Before he knew it, a tear had trickled down the Brit's cheek. A look of horror came over America.

"Oh… oh my God! England! Crap, don't cry! No, no, no, this isn't how it's supposed to go! I'm the hero and the hero says to stop crying, all right?" Calloused, and yet gentle, fingers wiped away the falling tear.

"There. That's better, isn't it? C'mon, England, smile!" America pushed the corners of England's mouth into a kind of grimace. America laughed at the forced expression on his face. England grabbed America's wrists and forced his fingers out of his mouth. But just as the younger country was about to protest, to say that it was only to cheer England up, he felt something physically shut his mouth.

He registered the feeling before anything else. _Lips,_ he thought. _Soft. They're lips._ His eyes widened in realization. His mind was now screaming: _lips, they're lips! England's lips! England is… he's_ KISSING _me! _And indeed he was. The Brit pulled back, blushing madly.

"I love you too… git."

America looked down at the smaller man, who had in all of ten seconds, shaken his world and filled his heart with overflowing happiness. He shook his head fondly, wrapping his love in his arms again and pulling him into another kiss. This one was just as sudden, but gentle, longer-lasting, and sweet, whilst somehow filled with all the passion the two could muster. The innocence of _is this okay?_ turned into the lustful heat of _I want you, I need you, let me show you how much. _Hands dove into hair, clutching at tufts and strands as murmurs and "I love you"s were whispered between lips. Tongues fought for dominance, exploring, invading, retreating, all at once. Their hearts were leaping out of their chests as they struggled to salvage as much air as they could without breaking apart from one another. When the need for oxygen became too much to bear, the two finally pulled away from that perfect kiss, eyes fluttering open, lungs gasping for air. Both lovers wished silently that the absolute love in that moment would always last. They smiled at one another, still in a tight embrace. England leant his forehead against America's and closed his eyes. America followed suit, listening to the soft breaths of England. It was only the second kiss they had shared, but America already felt like they had had ten lifetimes full of love. It wasn't just a kiss. It was the start of everything. The potential of every kind of love for the two. And after all of those four hundred and five years of knowing England, America stood there, content with his arms around his love, never happier.

Even when Japan snapped a bunch of photos of the two.

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**Hooray! A happy ending! There had to be my OTP in the end. :)**

**Looks like there won't be any friendship problems between America and Japan after all. I hope you liked it! **

**~Please review~**


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